


Between the Motions

by Anonymous



Series: Little Talks [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azula (Avatar)-centric, Conversations, Dissociation, Forgiveness, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26709100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Years after the war ends, Azula is joined by Aang for a long overdue conversation.
Relationships: Aang & Azula (Avatar), Azula & Ty Lee (Avatar)
Series: Little Talks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964512
Comments: 18
Kudos: 146
Collections: Specific Prompts with Fandoms/Ships in mind





	Between the Motions

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Specific_Prompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Specific_Prompts) collection. 



> So I didn't mean for this to be posted as an Anonymous fic. If I could fulfil this prompt and keep my penname attached, I would.
> 
> There's a link to my other works in the note at the end. Please check out my other works if you enjoy this one!

Azula has never been alone with Aang before today.

Blessed as she is to be the Fire Lord’s sister (though some days, it feels more like a curse), she has seen the Avatar on many occasions; at meetings, at various social functions, even on the days he simply comes to visit Zuko. But he sticks close to Zuko, or Katara, or any other member of his close-knit group of friends. It’s not to say that she has never spoken a word to him; of course they’ve exchanged polite, short greetings and the occasional farewell, but beyond that, he gives her space, a wide berth.

She cannot blame him. She wonders if he carries a lightning scar, the same as Zuko.

So Azula does not interact with Aang more than necessary. In truth, she gives all of Zuko’s friends similar treatment. Though the desire for the crown is long gone, and she no longer wishes to see her brother on fire, she can feel their unease, can tell that they believe her brother to be a fool to not lock her up.

They might be right in that. There are days in which her moods control her. Some days, all she can do is rage and scream at anyone she sets her eyes on. Some days, it is a struggle to even get out of bed, the feelings of loss and worthlessness consuming her to the point where she feels heavier than the whole of the city. Some days, she is restless and irritable, and she cannot keep still, cannot keep her thoughts in her head. Anyone in their right mind would have deemed her too difficult, too much of a liability; anyone else would have locked her away where they would never have to think of her again.

Then again, Zuko had ever been a fool.

Still, she _was_ grateful for his sentimentality. It was the only reason she still walked free.

Today is one of the good days. Her temperament is calm, her thoughts as clear as the blue, cloudless sky. A warm summer breeze filtered in through the windows of her tearoom—yes, _her_ tea room. She required another room, beyond her bedroom, that is to be hers and hers alone, to act as a sanctuary for when the world becomes too much. Unlike her bedroom, fashioned in dark mahogany and bearing only the essentials, this tearoom is brighter, lighter, inviting. Flowers decorate every corner, fresh blooms brought in daily for her. The smell of jasmine and hibiscus fills the air; it is difficult to be at war with herself when surrounded by such sweet scents and sights.

Though the room is meant to be a reprieve when she is at her darkest, Azula finds herself seeking it out even on days when the darkness does not creep in.

The knock at the door is wholly unexpected. The only person granted entry to this room besides herself is Ty Lee, and she never knocks before coming in.

Azula turns in her chair, staring at the door, but does not stand, does not speak. Perhaps she only thought she had—

No. No mistake. The doorknob turns, the door opens, and the very last person she ever expects to see enters the room.

“Azula,” the Avatar greets her, standing just in the doorway. He opens his mouth to say something more, but she cuts him off.

“My brother is not in here.”

She is willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, that, perhaps, he did not know exactly what room he has walked into.

But he nods. “I know. He….said that I might find you here.”

Her eyes narrow ever so slightly. So Zuko _had_ told him to come to this room? Her sanctuary? She would have choice words with her stupid brother later. Stranger still that Aang would be looking for her. “I suppose he neglected to tell you that this room is for my use only?”

“No, he did,” Aang admits, almost sheepish. “But I was wondering if I could speak with you.”

Azula considers him—the Avatar—awaiting her permission to come in further, before gesturing to the chair opposite her.

He follows her motions, sitting down where directed. She had been enjoying her favorite tea—a strong black blend, one that invigorates her—and whenever it is served here, it is brought with an extra teacup. Sometimes Ty Lee joins her, but only sporadically, impossible to predict when she might show up at all. Rather than having to waste time in summoning a servant to fetch another cup and let the tea become cold during the wait, the more efficient solution is to consistently have an extra cup.

Wordlessly, she pours Aang a cup, setting it before him; difficult as she may be perceived, rude she is not.

He thanks her; she says nothing, waiting for him to speak. After all, he is the one to come to her, invading her time alone.

“I realized recently that we have never had the chance, alone, to talk,” he starts, to which Azula snorts.

“This is a recent revelation? You’ve been avoiding me for years.”

“You made me nervous.”

Azula raises both an eyebrow and her teacup to her lips, not missing how he used the past tense. “I still do.”

A sigh from the Avatar; an admission. Aang sips from his tea instead of responding, and Azula secretly delights when he grimaces at the strength of the tea. It is bitter on the tongue; she savors the taste.

“You have every reason to be,” she adds casually, as if it is merely the weather they are speaking of.

“Do I.” It isn’t quite a question, but there is certainly confusion on his part from her statement.

“I _did_ try to kill you,” Azula points out, and then pauses. “I’m pretty certain that I did kill you actually. No one has ever told me how you managed to survive that lightning strike."

If Aang had seemed a little uneasy before, now he is wholly uncomfortable. He shifts in his seat, and nearly takes another sip of the tea before apparently deciding against it. “…There’s a spirit oasis in the North Pole. Katara was granted water from it; she used that to heal me.”

“Fascinating.”

Her tone is meant to lead Aang to believe that she finds the topic dull, but it is far from the truth. The healing abilities of waterbenders has long intrigued her, and that there was such a thing as spirit enhanced water? This is something she will be looking up later.

The Avatar nods, but distantly. “…Do I still have reason to be concerned around you?”

Her eyes are sharp on him, studying him. The question sounds like a threat, but his tone is casual, curious. “Is this what you came to speak to me about?”

“In a way,” Aang shrugs. “We’ve never spoken. We have history, and we see each other…somewhat usually. I thought it was best we finally clear the air.”

“And clearing the air involves questioning if I still wish to see you dead?”

Another sigh from across the table. “I know that you don’t want that,” he says. “I can see the change in you from when we were kids.”

“Yet you are uncertain if you should be concerned by me.”

“You just said that I should be nervous around you; I’m trying to figure out why.”

Azula raises a brow at him again, settling back against her chair. “I shot you with lightning.”

“You did the same to Zuko,” Aang counters. “And he has forgiven you.”

“And Zuko’s a right idiot,” Azula nearly snorts with a roll of her eyes. “You know he is more sentimental than is helpful.”

He is watching her now, nearly as intently as she had him, trying to read between her words. She shakes her head.

“I’m not going to do it again, if that is what you’re waiting for me to say.”

Aang set his teacup down. “I never thought you would.”

“Forgiven me so easily, Avatar?”

“No. No, I don’t think I have.” And strangely enough, he seems disappointed in his own words, as if he _should_ forgive her. He took in a breath. “I’m sorry that it has taken me this long to talk to you about this. This is something we should have resolved earlier.”

Azula only just barely restrains herself from rolling her eyes. “What is there to resolve, exactly? You were trying to save the world from my Father’s destructive plans, and I tried to kill you for it. It is what it is, and examining the past isn’t going to change anything.”

They are getting closer and closer to territory that Azula does not care to revisit. When she thinks too long or too hard on the events leading up to the end of the war, the darkness is sure to follow and swallow her up for days.

“Do you regret any of it?”

She sucks her tongue, inhaling sharply as she looks down at her hands. That question. The one question that everyone wanted a particular answer from her. No one wanted the truth, no one wanted to hear her side and how it was for it. All the whole world had wanted to hear was that she was sorry, that she knew it was wrong, that she was repenting.

Flicking her eyes back up to Aang, she considers him again, and decides that, for once, she would tell the truth. Let him see her for the monster everyone believed her to be deep down.

“My actions were….” There isn’t a correct word for what she wants to say, so she abandons that sentence, starting anew. “I know the weight of what I did, and I am genuinely sorry that I hurt you.” He probably wouldn’t believe her. “But I cannot say that I would do anything differently, knowing what I know now.”

Her words are shocking, she can see that. Whatever Aang had been expecting, this is not it. “What? Why?”

She stares down into her teacup; it is nearly empty, only a small amount left. She swallows, looking at the tea leaves simmering at the bottom of the cup. This is not a topic she likes to think on, of how life was once here, nearly a decade past, when her father was Fire Lord.

“I…. I feared my father,” she admits, her eyes still on her cup, cradling it in both hands. “I saw what he did to Zuko for displeasing him. My goal was—and had always been—to make my father so proud of me that it would be unthinkable to do anything to me like he had done to Zuko. And I wanted Zuko to come home. I was supposed to bring him home in chains. I thought that if I….”

Azula sighs, looking out the open windows at the bright sunshine. “I thought that if Ba Sing Se had fallen, and the Avatar had fallen, and that Father believed Zuko had contributed to it, that I would be safe, and that Zuko would be safe as well. Being on the right or wrong side of history had nothing to do with the decisions I made.”

Finished speaking, she keeps her eyes on the window, and inhales deeply. The flowers are doing wonders now, to keep her feeling calm. To say this topic is difficult is an understatement.

“You were trying to protect Zuko and yourself.” Aang’s voice is not judgmental, a shock in itself.

“Everything I ever did at my father’s command was for self-preservation.” She looks over to Aang. “Don’t misunderstand me. I did awful things. I supplied my father with the idea to raze the Earth Kingdom during the comet. My motives were purely selfish; I weighed my safety over that of the rest of the world.”

Aang nods. “You did,” he agrees, but it feels like there is more that he means to say. “…Does Zuko know this?”

She gives the barest shake of her head. No. Zuko hadn’t wanted the truth. He had only wanted to know that she wouldn’t try to hurt him or his friends again.

“I think you should.”

To that, she scoffs. “And why would I ever tell him? To confirm that I’m the monster everyone thinks I am?”

“I don’t think you’re a monster.”

Her throat tightens. His tone reminds her too much of the day of her coronation, of when she hallucinated her mother to be there with her, of the gentleness and pity she’d imagined she would have. She has to look away sharply, at anywhere else, as it all starts to happen again, as it has happened before.

There has been too much talk of the darkest days of her life, too much reminding her and pulling her back into those memories, and she knows she is slipping and there is nothing to stop her. She knows how this will go. Aang will try to talk (as others have) and upon realizing that she is not going to respond, he will leave.

And then it will be up to her to pull herself out.

But then, distantly, she hears the door to the room open, and a surprised gasp, and she looks over to see Ty Lee has joined them.

“Oh, Aang! I didn’t expect you to be in here!”

Ty Lee bows deeply to Aang, and when she straightens, she looks quickly, questioningly, between him and Azula. “Am I interrupting?”

Azula cannot find her voice, but there is relief to see Ty Lee. The young woman somehow is a beacon of light, able to ground her, sometimes able to keep the dark thoughts and mood swings at bay, and she could not have come at a better time.

“No, not at all,” Aang says politely, standing. He nods to Azula. “I’m glad we were able to talk. Maybe we can continue it another day.”

She still cannot find the words to speak, and so she doesn’t, barely managing a nod in his direction. Aang bows to her, before exiting the room.

Once he is gone, Ty Lee is swift to take his place at the table, but moves the chair closer, to sit beside her. Azula can feel how glassy her eyes must look, knows that every motion she makes is sluggish, this strange feeling of not being a part of herself settling in such a familiar way.

“Azula, are you okay?” Ty Lee asks, and she is holding her hand, ducking her head around to try to meet Azula’s unfocused gaze. Her hand is grounding, weighted and firm over her own; she can feel herself in certainty there. “What- what did he say to you?”

There is a protective edge to Ty Lee’s voice. Sweet, but misplaced. Slowly, Azula blinks, and shakes her head. “Nothing to get upset over,” she hears herself say.

She grips Ty Lee’s hand tighter, closing her eyes, and focuses on what she knows is real. The hand holding hers is real, and she lets that be her anchor.

Later, when Ty Lee inquires further of what had transpired between her and the Avatar, Azula will simply say that they have a better understanding of each other.


End file.
